


Crash and Burn

by epicfrenchfry



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Attempted Sexual Assault, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Friends to Lovers, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, but nothing actually happens don't worry, it's a grand groupie-to-roadie adventure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2020-05-20 05:56:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19370836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epicfrenchfry/pseuds/epicfrenchfry
Summary: Just as I thought I had it all, I pulled the trigger...Theon Greyjoy has the same dream as any die-hard music fan: meet and befriend the band members. He does more than that, joining the road crew and working behind the scenes of the world he admired. It's never all it's cracked up to be, though, and with little preparation, Theon is tossed into the trials and tribulations of life on the road.Tentative title, subject to change





	1. promised adventure

The bass was pounding, the bassist dancing across the stage with his dark curls all over his face. The lead singer held an electric guitar, screeching out a riff with his fingers a blur. The drummer was headbanging, her red hair flying with every energetic movement, and the beat reverberated within Theon's very soul. He stood at the barricade, wide-eyed and lost in the moment. He watched them all, but his eyes lingered on the singer. His voice cut deep, searing straight through to his very soul and ravaging it. Every time, every blessed show that he saw, Theon was changed. 

He scarcely breathed as the song petered out, the last notes bleeding away into the breathless atmosphere, and when it all finally settled and the singer caught his breath, the pit exploded. Bodies lurched all around Theon, bumping and crashing together as people went wild. 

"Thank you, Saltcliffe! We are the Young Wolves!" the singer bellowed amidst the screaming and cheering. His voice was hoarse from singing, chest heaving with every breath, his auburn curls awry. The black tank top he wore hung baggily off his frame over torn black skinny jeans, and heavy boots on his feet. Theon had never seen anything so beautiful, but he had seen him like this now at every show they had performed on this tour, and tonight was the last. Theon didn't quite know what he was going to do with himself now that it was over. Go back home and laze around, waiting for the next tour? 

The crowd was dispersing slowly, the band having left the stage. Crew members went on, cleaning up equipment and wrapping wires. Theon's heart sank, and he followed the rest of the crowd outside, bypassing the merch line. He owned everything there was of theirs to own, having bought everything either from their website's online store, or from the merch table on previous dates. 

The air outside was cold, a welcome change on Theon's bare arms to the stuffy heat of a concert venue. He was glad for the space, too; so many people crammed in against him make him feel tense and claustrophobic, but he could usually set aside the discomfort for the sake of a good show. He slipped his hands into his jeans pockets and strolled along the side of the venue, passing clusters of people sharing shitty weed and chattering excitedly. He wondered how many others, if any, followed the band on tour. How many of these people had experienced their first Young Wolves show tonight? Theon almost wished he could go back and relive that first show, the souring feeling in his chest and the prick of emotion in his eyes as he watched them come onstage, the way the music coursed through his body and filled his head, his heart, with swelling ecstasy. The way his ears had rung afterwards, the airy feeling in his head, and how all he wanted to do was relive it over again. 

He was heading towards the paid parking when an all-too-familiar voice called out to him, and he turned slowly on his heel. Robb Stark. Drowned God, it was Robb Stark, the lead singer, peeking out from a backdoor of the venue. He grinned when he saw Theon looking, and pushed the door open the rest of the way. 

"Hey. Want a drink?" 

All of Theon's common sense screamed at him to say no and move on, because who knew what was going on back there? But Theon's sister always told him he had just enough common sense to fill a bottlecap, and this was an opportunity he couldn't afford to miss. He grinned back, smooth and easy like his nerves weren't going haywire, and followed him backstage. He had always wondered what backstage would be like, anyways. 

As it turned out, backstage was like a hangout. Aside from the scattered equipment belonging to the venue and the band's own things, there was an old leather couch and several chairs, plus a table with beer and assorted snacks set out. Robb Stark led him over to the chairs and couch, grabbing a handful of pretzels and a beer bottle as they passed the table. Theon hesitated, wondering, before going ahead and doing the same. The pretzels were good, the kind of fancy name brand shit that he never bought, and the beer was some Northern brand ale that Theon had never heard of before. The label read Night's Brew, with a large crow spreading its wings depicted behind the words. 

"Sit down!" Robb Stark said, gesturing vaguely towards the seating. Theon sat on the edge of a chair, watching him as he moved around. For all the energy he put off on stage, Theon had thought he would be exhausted, but he only seemed to have more energy to burn. "We've seen you, you know? Right up front for every show this tour!" Robb grinned at him, biting the loop off a pretzel and chasing it down with a swig of beer. "That's some dedication, man." 

Theon's jaw dropped. They... They had noticed him? At every show? "This band means so much to me, I— I saved up and followed you guys on tour."

"It's the last night! Figured we'd have a bit of a party! Hang on—" He jogged away, leaving Theon staring after him in confusion, but he could hear him shouting for people. He returned a minute later with his fellow band members at his heels and a handful of people who must be crew members. Theon stood up at once. "Jon and Sansa!" Robb announced. "But you knew that, right?" 

Of course Theon did. He also knew that Robb and Sansa were siblings, and that Jon was their half-brother, and that they had numerous more siblings back home. He didn't want to disclose that though, and out himself as a rabid fan. Robb was going on though, introducing each of the crew members he had gathered. 

"This is Rodrik, our driver, and his daughter Beth. She works with the instrument tech. This is Luwin, our manager. He does a bit of everything, he's great. Jory, Alyn, and Harwin. They work with the lighting and sound. Over there talking, that's Sandor Clegane and Brienne Tarth. Our security."

Theon was overwhelmed. He looked between them all, putting the names to faces and trying to memorize who each person was. Beth, she would be easy. The youngest person there, she couldn't be more than fifteen, with her curly reddish hair pulled back in a ponytail and a black dress on, complete with eyeliner and dark makeup. Clegane, too, would be easy, what with his horribly scarred face. Brienne was one of the tallest women Theon had ever seen, and rather homely, but from the sheer size and build of her, he knew her to be imposing. Luwin and Rodrik were both older, with the former donning chain necklaces of different materials, and the latter with silver-white hair and a thick white beard. 

Several long seconds had passed before Theon realized they were all looking expectantly at him. "Oh. I'm Theon. Greyjoy." He almost didn't say his last name, lest any of them recognize it. His father Balon was an old naval officer with a shoddy reputation, and both his older brothers, also in the navy, had died at sea. Much to his gratitude, if any of them knew it they didn't say so, and the crew members split off again to do their respective jobs. Clegane walked off, but Brienne lingered, watching him hawkishly. 

"Go on, sit down Theon! I can call you that? Or do you prefer something else?" 

"Theon is fine," he said quietly, sitting back down. He watched Robb as he bustled around, fetching more snacks and passing beers and fistfuls of pretzels to Jon and Sansa as they sat down. Theon uncapped his beer and tasted it, then took a swig. Whatever weird brand this was, it was good. 

Robb was still moving aimlessly, pacing around them, bouncing on the balls of his feet and tossing pretzels into his mouth.

"Robb, sit," Sansa suggested, patting the chair beside her. "You look exhausted." 

"I'm fine," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, still pacing circles. Theon had no clue how he still had so much energy to burn off, but he sure was moving. 

"Whatever." Sansa rolled her eyes, rimmed with winged eyeliner and a smoky eye look, and turned her gaze on Theon. Her eyes were a light and pretty blue, just like Robb's, but her hair was a lighter shade of auburn than Robb's. "Theon, right? I'm Sansa, but you know that already." She laughed, sweet and pretty. "You know what I do, but what about you?"

Jon looked up in curiosity and Robb slowed his pacing to listen. Theon cleared his throat. "Oh. I, uh, don't really do much? My father has a boat repair shop and I mostly just work there. I write a little bit on the side, though."

"Oh? What do you write?" Jon asked. He was in stark contrast to his siblings; his curls were black with no tint of red to them, and his eyes were shade of stormy gray. It wasn't fair, Theon thought sourly. All three of them were blatantly gorgeous, and there he was sitting there looking like a sweaty old fool.

"Uh... Music, for my sister, Yara. She's 'Sea Bitch' on CrowTube." 

"Your sister is Sea Bitch? Wow!" Sansa leaned forward, intrigued. Theon couldn't help but feel flattered. Sansa Stark knew his sister, a nobody online indie-rocker?

"Yeah." They were all looking at him now, and Robb had even stopped pacing to stare at him. Theon grew hot and uncomfortable. "...What?" Were they all judging him, wondering where his musical talent was? Wondering how a guy like him was related to Sea Bitch? 

"Nothing, just... You write her lyrics?" Jon asked. 

"Most of them. We work together." 

"You're really good at songwriting." Robb was looking at him differently now, a little impressed, and Theon felt his confidence surging. They liked his lyrics. His favorite fucking band, and all its members, liked his godsdamned song lyrics. Theon could punch the air, he was so elated—

"You should write for us sometime!"

And suddenly he was crashing back to earth, and he was staring at them with rounded eyes and a slack jaw. 

"Wha— Really?" He had to be joking, there was no way...

"Yeah, why not? We write most of our own stuff, but we like working with songwriters too. And you're good, man."

"You are good," Jon agreed, nodding fervently. 

"Thanks! It would be... awesome, to work with you guys. In any way." Was this actually happening to him? None of this seemed real. An hour ago he had been watching them perform, half an hour ago he was walking to his car, ready to go home and mope until the next tour, and now? 

"Sweet." With that, the conversation settled. Jon scooted over to Sansa to sit beside her, the two of them speaking quietly. Theon watched them, and watched Robb as he resumed pacing. Shouldn't he be exhausted? Really, it was illogical for him to not be fatigued right now... Rather than worry too deeply about it, Theon drank, and drank some more. Theon wasn't much of a connoisseur, but this was a damned good ale, pleasantly earthy and almost fruity, with a hint of a sweet something that he couldn't place.

They were all chattering away, drinking and snacking with some crew members joining them, just unwinding. Theon felt like a visitor in another world, being privy to even this little gathering. These dynamic people had seen him, chosen him to talk to and spend time with. How was he special? 

Despite any self-doubt he was harboring, Theon found himself at ease with them. All three of them were so easy to talk to; even little Beth Cassel was chatting with them and sipping on pink lemonade. At one point, when probable hours had passed and the alcohol had loosened their inhibitions, somebody produced some weed and upon seeing this, Theon pulled out his vape pen. 

"Fuck's that smell?" Robb asked, tossing his empty bottle into the bin. It clinked against the others already piled in. 

Theon tipped his head back to look at him, a shitty grin on his face. Vapor clouded from his lips as he spoke. "It's honeysuckle, baby."

"No, it's ass. Put that away, will you?" Theon grumbled but did as he was told, slipping the e-cigarette into his jacket pocket. Robb waved the scented vapor away from his face, scowling. Theon watched, eyes lingering on the slender fingers and full pout of his lips. 

"You don't smoke?" Jon and Sansa both were, passing a fat blunt around between them and a couple of the venue staff, and Theon was hoping it would come his way soon.

"Nah." Robb sat down on the old leather couch, crossing his legs. His booted feet knocked together as he leaned over for another beer, popping the cap and tossing it to the bin. It clinked, and he took a swig. Theon watched his throat move as he swallowed, and he swallowed as well. He grabbed another bottle too. Was it his third or fourth? He didn't know. 

"Hey, Stark—"

"Robb. Call me Robb." 

"Robb." Theon grinned again, heart pounding. "What are you guys doing after this tour?"

"Oh, I don't know." Robb let out a deep sigh. "Go home for a bit, schedule another tour? Gotta pay off the bus, so definitely another tour soon."

Theon fidgeted, rubbing his thumb around the rim of his bottle. Robb watched him curiously, but said nothing. After an agonizing pause, Theon spoke again. "Need a hand on the road?" 

Whatever Robb had been expecting, that wasn't it. He blinked. "Uh... How about I take your number, and if we do I'll give you a call. I'll call you about the music, too. Okay?" 

Theon's heart sank. "Oh... Yeah, sure. Sounds good." Robb handed him his phone, and Theon put himself in as a contact. He set his name as 'Kraken Prince' with a heart emoji, and threw in his birthday and email for good measure. In case Robb was interested. 

Robb gave him a dazzling smile, all white teeth, dimples, and pretty blue eyes that crinkled up at the corners. "Thanks, man." 

"Y-Yeah, of course," Theon said weakly. Robb clapped a hand on his shoulder and sat back, drinking his beer and falling silent. His eyes slipped shut and he seemed lost in thought, one leg jiggling in time with an unheard song. Relaxed. Theon had seen Robb Stark hyped up on stage, leaping and climbing stage props, performing suicide drops and dancing around, and he had seen him in pictures with an easy grin and a casual getup, but he had never seen him so relaxed before in his life. He had a strong urge to take a picture, but didn't dare try lest he wear out his welcome.

After a time, Theon was passed a joint and he fell into easy conversation with Jon and Sansa, while Robb seemingly dozed on the couch. 

"Is he alright?" he asked, nodding towards the silent Robb. 

Sansa and Jon both frowned. "Yeah, he's just... It's nothing we can talk about."

"Oh. Okay," Theon said sheepishly. Now he was prying, and he felt guilty. For the first time in hours, Theon slipped his cellphone from his pocket to check the time, and almost dropped it when he saw it was nearing two in the morning. The concert had ended shortly after eleven. "Fuck!" He couldn't drive, not now, and his sister was going to butcher him when he called her this late for a ride. Why was he always such an idiot?

"What's the matter, Theon?"

"I gotta get going." He cast a regretful look at Robb, still asleep on the couch, and began to head towards the door. "Thank you, so so much! This... You have no idea how much this meant to me. It... It means a lot."

Sansa was grinning. "Of course, Theon. Hope to see you at the next show, yeah?"

He noticed she hadn't said anything about calling him, but he swallowed back his disappointment. "Yeah! Front row, like always." With that, he headed through the door into the quiet city night, wishing to the Drowned God for just a little bit more time. 


	2. think of something new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha whoops it's been two weeks... I was so bored writing this chapter bc I just wanted to get to ch3. Good news is, ch3 won't take nearly as long. Thanks for reading! :)

 Days passed, then weeks, and Theon had heard nothing from Robb Stark. He tried to act as though the blatant refusal didn't bother him, but more than once Yara had pulled him aside and told him to pull himself together, called him pathetic. His mother would have been more sympathetic. She would tell him that maybe Robb was just busy and he would call soon. But his mother wasn't around anymore, and Robb didn't call, and it had now been two months. He found himself regretting never getting Robb's number, but if he did, what would he do with it? Text him, call him? Harass him again and again until he found out what was going on? No, he would wait, even if it was killing him. 

So he waited. 

And waited. 

And waited some more. 

On the third day of the ninth week, just past one in the afternoon, Theon's phone rang. He picked it up at once, slamming it to his ear without ever checking the caller ID. "Hello?" 

"Hey, is this Theon Greyjoy?" 

It was Robb Stark. Oh seven hells, it was actually Robb Stark. He was talking to Robb Stark on the phone. Robb Stark's voice was filtering through his phone speakers in a melody far more intimate than from his music app.

"Y-Yeah. Robb?" 

"That's me!" Theon could hear the grin on his voice, picture it in his mind. How many pictures had he seen of him, smiling like that? He was lucky enough to have seen it in person too, both onstage and directed at him personally. "Sorry it's been so long, we've been taking a break from everything and just hanging around at home. But we've finished setting up all the tour dates for the winter, if you're still interested in working with us."

"Yeah! Yeah, of ca— course I am!" Theon slapped himself mentally. Now was not the time to be stumbling over his words like an idiot. 

"Good. I'll text you more information, okay?" 

"Okay!" 

They hung up, and Theon stared at his phone screen for a minute, shaken. Then he lurched into action and saved Robb's number into his phone, setting his name as 'Robb!!!', with a wolf emoji for good measure. With that done, he shoved his phone into his pocket and dashed off down the hall. 

"Yara! Yara!" he called, bursting into her room. She threw her headset down and spun in her seat to glare at him. 

"What?" she snapped. "I'm trying to record."

"Yeah, I see that. But guess who just called me?" Without waiting for an answer, he proudly announced, "Robb Stark!"

"He did?" True to his hopes, Yara looked mildly impressed. "Nice. So when's the wedding?"

"The we—? There's no wedding, you bitch." Theon sneered at her. "I'm going on tour with them."

"Are you? When?" She picked up her headset again, already looking bored with the conversation now that the big news was spilled.

"Um." He shrugged helplessly. "Don't know yet? Sometimes in winter. He's gonna text me the dates."

Yara slipped her headset back on and readjusted her camera. "Better go talk to dad," she said in an annoying sing-song. "He's still pissed you left to chase after them, so... Good luck." 

Now effectively dismissed, Theon backed out of her room. "Shit, she's right," he muttered, biting his lip. It wasn't as though his father needed him around in the shop, but nothing he ever did seemed to please the old man, not since his brothers died and left him as the only son. It was bad enough explaining to him that no, he still wasn't going to college, but he was going to take off for half the summer and follow his favorite band on tour around the country. Now he had to explain to him that he was taking off indefinitely, to work with said favorite band on the road. 

He trudged along outside to the garage. The path leading there was lined with assorted boats, all waiting their turn to be fixed up. As a kid, Theon used to run amuck and play in the boats, climbing into the massive sailboats and pretending to be an old sea captain from the stories, or playing deep-sea fisherman in the fishing boats. He would play until his father yelled at him, or his brothers chased him off, and then he would run down the docks to the marina to dangle his feet off the end of the pier, toes stretched towards the water, watching the yachts and speedboats cruise by in the surrounding sea. He would watch in jealousy as his father taught his brothers how to steer a boat through water, and then Yara, but never him. But he had his always doting mother, baking cookies with him. She would ruffle his hair and kiss his forehead, call him her sweet little boy. Her little Theon. His brothers called him a mama's boy but Theon embraced it, because he was, and he was mama's favorite.

That didn't matter now. His brothers were dead, his mother gone, Yara geared to take over the garage and marina in the future, and he was about to embark on a tour with the Young Wolves. Privately, he felt he had been dealt the greater hand, but he would never say that to his father or sister. He kicked loose stones and scuffed his sneakers as he walked down the path, and entered the garage silently. His father was tinkering on a yellow speedboat, his scraggly gray hair tied back from his face. Theon stood for a minute, wondering if his father was going to notice him or if he should say something to announce himself, and eventually Balon Greyjoy straightened up and turned to face him. 

"Well? Spit it out," he snapped. 

"I'll be leaving again," he said. "Over the winter. Don't know when exactly, or when I'll be back."

"And where exactly do you think you're going?" Balon threw down his grease rag and scowled at him. Theon looked back sullenly. 

"I'll be working with the Young Wolves. Crew work, and songwriting."

"Crew work, eh? What kind of work?" Balon eyed him, almost hopefully, surely thinking that Theon would be there to fix up the equipment or the bus if it broke down, the kind of handyman mechanic stuff that Theon had never been interested in, or particularly good at it. He noted that he had ignored the mention of songwriting, and grew even more sour. Balon was still waiting for an answer that Theon didn't know, so he merely shrugged. Balon grumbled a sigh. 

"Winter ain't busy for a thing, and I have your sister here. Go on, whatever you want to do. Don't matter to me."

Theon gaped at him. Really? That was it? No screaming, no cussing, no fighting? His father had never given him any leeway this easily before in his life. "T-thanks," he said, backing away hurriedly, as though Balon might change his mind if he lingered. "I'll let you know when I have exact dates." Balon merely went back to work, not even acknowledging him, and Theon turned and strolled back up the path to the house. 

It was always so quiet these days, with Yara off in her room either recording or playing some online pirate game that she was a big hotshot in. His father was always in the garage, tinkering at somebody's boat or some random project he was working on. Theon had free range of the rest of the house, more or less unbothered, but it felt like a cage and he found himself pacing. All he wanted was to leave, be out on the road with them and be free. His heart fluttered in his chest, imagining it: living with them, befriending them, drinking and joking and laughing with them like he had that night. It would be easy, after a while. They could become a family to him. 

Theon had never really had a place here, after his mother. If he could leave, get out and escape even if only for a few months, he would be happy. Maybe they would like him well enough to keep him, and he would never have to come back here. He could leave Pyke and these islands and make something of himself where he was wanted. 

His mother's face swam in his mind's eye, bringing with it a twinge of biting guilt, but he pushed it away. She wasn't enough to tie him here, not now with this opportunity to get away. 

Back in his room, he flopped to his bed and stared up at the ceiling. It was dotted with tiny glow-in-the-dark stars that no longer glowed, remnants of a happy childhood with his mother and a father that more or less ignored him. He remembered when she put them up, himself clinging to her skirt and peering up curiously. His walls were pale blue then, handpainted with white anchors and sailboats. Back then, he had loved the ships. He still did, but they had soured somewhat in the years since then. His walls were navy now, and the ships and anchors were gone.

He stared at the stars for a moment longer before shaking his head and turning over in bed. The sheets rustled around him and he tugged a blanket up over his shoulders. Why was he even dwelling on this now? Why was he feeling so sickly guilty over leaving? 

After a time, he must have fallen asleep. He woke to the sound of his phone buzzing and he turned over onto his side, pushing the blanket back with a tired hum. He lay for a minute and blinked up at the ceiling, tracing the looping swirls of stars and listening to the soft whir of his box fan. This was why he never napped; he was fuzzy and disoriented, trying to make sense of where he was, and when he picked up his phone to check the time, he saw the new text messages and flew upright. Robb! 

He swiped open his phone and hunched over it, reading through the messages as quickly as he could. November 20th, first date. They would come to get him on the 19th. First show in Saltcliffe, then to the mainland for the brunt of the tour. The final date of the tour was January 16th. Robb had ended his message with a smiley face.

As Theon shut off his phone, he realized he was shaking. This was it. This was happening. He was going on tour with the godsdamned Young Wolves, and he couldn't wait.

It was time for something new, a new adventure and new life beyond what he had here. 


	3. coffee breath and headphone hiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry y'all, I lied when I said it wouldn't take as long. I suck at actually sitting down and writing

Those scant few months passed at an agonizingly slow pace, with Theon too antsy about tour to take much joy in his mundane daily tasks. He was texting Robb now, not too frequently, but sometimes he woke up to a good morning text and his whole day was floaty and blissful. He listened to the Young Wolves' entire discography on loop, studying their lyrical style, and wrote out a couple of song ideas to work on. They were coming today, Robb had already texted him to say they were on their way, and all Theon could do now was wait. Impatiently. Staring out the window, sighing, pacing, the works. His father had rolled his eyes and stalked off outside after Theon's third lap around the house, and Yara had laughed herself silly when Theon started at the sound of a car and ran to the door, only to return wilted, having seen it was only the mailman. 

"You're like a dog," she jeered. "Oh, boohoo, when will my master come home?"

"Shut up," he snapped, retreating to his room to wait away from amused eyes. He yanked his curtains back and flopped down on his bed at the right angle to be able to see out the window to the driveway. His phone buzzed, but it was only a spam email promising him forgiveness for student loans he didn't have. He sulked and deleted the email, throwing his arm out over the mattress with the sort of dramatic flair Yara would tease him for. It was already afternoon; the sun was midway down the sky, and light bled obtrusively through the window to brighten his room to an annoying degree. And he sulked.

But then there was a car pulling up outside his house. An SUV he didn't recognize, and his heart was thrumming in his chest. Beside him, his phone lit up with a new notification. 

_'we're here'_

Seven hells, this was it. It was time to grab his suitcase and go. 

Theon did just that, snatching up his suitcase and hefting it out of his room, down the stairs and towards the door. Yara stopped him in the hall. She grabbed his sleeve and he jerked to a stop, whirling to face her in relative surprise. She looked annoyed.

"You're just gonna leave? No goodbye? No 'thanks for helping me pack, Yara! You're the coolest sister ever'?"

"Thanks for helping me pack, Yara. You're a half-decent sister." He offered her a grin and she rolled his eyes, yanking him into an uncomfortable hug. 

"Stay safe, Theon."

"Yeah, yeah." He made to pull away, but she held him tight.

"I mean it. I don't want to hear about you changing. Losing yourself. You're not..." He could see it in her face. As little as he suited life here, she doubted life on the road would be much better for him. He scowled. 

"I'll be fine, Yara. Promise." 

Reluctantly, she let him go and he snatched up his suitcase again and glanced around. His father was still absent, presumably outside in the marina, and he couldn't be bothered finding him to say goodbye. Instead, he wished Yara one last goodbye and was hurrying out the door. He swung it open right into Robb Stark's face. Robb reeled back, holding his face, blinking owlishly.

"Oh— Fuck! Fuck, I'm sorry!" Theon hissed. He dropped the suitcase again and stared at him. "Are you okay?"

Robb touched his cheek, and then promptly shrugged the whole thing off with an easy grin. "I'm fine. Looks like you're excited?" He held his hand out and Theon took it, confusion etched in his face. Robb's hand was soft despite the callouses. From the parked car, Theon could hear the others' laughter, and his face burned. Robb pursed his lips to try and fight back his own laughter, and Theon let go immediately. "I can take that for you," he said, gesturing to the suitcase. 

That made more sense. Theon handed it over sheepishly, wishing Jon and Sansa would stop laughing. Robb didn't seem to dwell on it though, merely turning to carry it off to the trunk, while Theon was beckoned into the backseat. He climbed in awkwardly, sitting beside Jon. Sansa was in the passenger seat, and as Theon climbed in she turned to face him, grinning. The sunlight streaming in through the windows set her hair aflame, and her blue eyes were sparkling.

"Excited?" 

"Yeah," Theon replied, though his nerves brought a sawdust taste to his mouth. 

"Good." Robb was grinning as he climbed in, and he wasted no time in turning the car on and driving away. Theon gazed out the window as they departed; he could see his father off by the garage, oiled rag thrown over his shoulder, watching with no emotion showing on his face. Theon scowled, not that Balon could see him, and leaned back in his seat. 

"Where's your bus?" he asked, curious. It would have made more sense, in his opinion, to just drive the bus than to take a car along too. 

"Rodrik's got it," Jon replied. He had a book in his lap, marked just under halfway through, and a glasses case. His hair was tied back from his face into a little bun, and it actually looked decent. "He's stocking it up for us, and filling the gas tank." 

"Oh." Theon looked back out the window, then back at Jon a moment later. "Who's car is this, then?"

"Sandor's," Sansa piped up. She turned around to face them again, with such a pretty smile on her face that Theon couldn't help but be taken aback. "He didn't think it would be smart for us to drive around town in a tour bus, anyways. Usually Luwin drives it though, cause Sandor and Brienne want to be in the bus with us. It makes their job a lot easier."

"Hard to do security when we're not together," Jon reasoned. 

"Not that we ever need security on the bus. Not while it's driving, anyways," Robb said. 

"Have you ever before?" Theon asked bemusedly. 

"You'd be surprised," he said, a hint of wry humor in his voice. "We've had fans try to sneak on after a show before. Groupies."

"Like me."

"Nah, not like you," Jon said, waving the thought away. "Look, we've been together for ten minutes already and you haven't tried to sleep with any of us yet!"

"Besides, you're a roadie now, if you still wanna be. And a friend. You don't get a choice on that one." Sansa grinned, and Theon's heart swelled in his chest. 

"Aw, Sans, you're making him blush," Jon teased.

"Our whole crew is way older than us, except for Beth," Sansa said with a wearisome sigh. "Let me have my fun. Unless it bothers you, Theon?"

"Not a whole lot bothers me." He shot her a roguish grin, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other in a sort of playful pose. "I'm cool, I'm easy."

"Easy, hm?" Robb quirked an eyebrow. "Is that what you would call it?"

"Hey!" Theon was still grinning through, relishing this easy banter the four of them had fallen into. This was easy, it really was. He was already slipping into the fold, with only two encounters under his belt. If everybody else was like them, this job would be a breeze.

 

* * *

 

The tour bus was tall, a double-decker style bus, and a sleek black color with the band's symbol, a snarling gray wolf's head, emblazoned on the side along with the band's name. A trailer was hitched up to the back of it, the door rolled up and an assortment of equipment inside. Crew members milled about, chatting and resorting equipment. Theon looked around at it all in awe as they parked beside the bus, and he hopped out of the car almost immediately. 

"Whoa, slow down a second," Robb warned. Theon had already stopped, however; Sandor Clegane was coming down the steps of the tour bus, an ugly glower on his face. "It's Theon, remember him?" Robb called out to him, waving cheerfully to catch his attention. Clegane stopped, regarding the other three in the car, and quieted when Sansa hopped out. With the three of them, Theon was able to dodge around Clegane and follow them up the steps into the bus. 

A soft gray carpet lined the walkway down the center. Upon entering, they stood in a moderate-sized kitchenette, a long table with chairs on the right and kitchen equipment to the left. A curtain was drawn beyond the kitchenette, closing it off into a sort of room. Robb strode forward, yanking the curtain back, and revealed a set of bunk beds built in on each wall. The bottom left bunk had a mess of pale blue blankets and fluffy white pillows, with one of Sansa's shirts strewn overtop the mess. The bottom right bunk had all black blankets and pillows, and the top right held blankets of deep reds and gray pillows. The top left was empty, holding only a random menagerie of objects, including a lone drumstick. 

"You have color schemes? Cute," Theon said, grinning. Sansa dashed forward and gathered her things off the top left bunk, throwing them haphazardly onto her own.

"Sorry. That one's yours," she said brightly. "I forgot to clear it off earlier."

"Wait, I'm...?"

"Down here with us? Yup. Upstairs are the crew bunks, but they're all full up. So you're stuck down here." Jon patted his shoulder and collapsed in one of the table chairs, brushing his curls back from his face. "Sorry, if you'd rather not be."

Naturally, Theon thought this was the best news he could have gotten today. He didn't say this, however, nor did he let his bounding excitement show on his face. "No, that's fine." More than fine. "Whatever works."

"Cool. I think..." Sansa peeked out the window. "Yeah, Sandor is bringing your things in."

"That's nice of him," said Theon, wondering why a borderline bodyguard would stoop to carry his suitcase.

Sansa beamed. "Yeah, he looks scary but he's sweet. He cares a lot about us."

"About her," Robb corrected, nudging her shoulder playfully. "Brienne, too. Both of them are wrapped around her little finger."

"Brienne is friends with mom, she likes all of us," Sansa protested. Theon noted how she said nothing about Clegane, and he smirked to himself. 

"Uh huh," Jon said. With a resounding clatter of boots and suitcase wheels, Clegane came onto the bus and handed Theon his suitcase. 

"Thanks."

"Sure," he said gruffly. To the group of them, he said, "Luwin's ordering a bunch of pizzas. What do you guys want?"

"Cheese is fine with me," Sansa said.

"Meat lovers?" Robb and Jon both suggested, and Theon heartily agreed.

"Alright." He headed out again, boots clomping down the steps, and Theon busied himself with settling into his bunk. 

There was a little pull-out ladder that he climbed up, and discovered a set of shelving set back in the walls of the bunk. He hefted his suitcase up and shoved his folded clothes into the wall shelves, coiled his phone charger and headphones into the shelf behind where he would put his pillow, and then threw his pillow and blankets onto the mattress. He left the suitcase there, not knowing exactly what to do with it, and grabbed his notebook and pen before rejoining them at the table. 

"Oh, is that—? Can I see?" Robb asked, pointing towards the notebook. 

"Uh, no, I actually don't have a song finished yet," he said. "I am working, though. I'll show you when I have one?"

"Alright." Robb settled back in his seat, regarding him with those deep blue eyes. There was something with him, something in those eyes that just took Theon apart at the seams and he couldn't recover. He glanced away, hoping he would feel more stable if he broke eye contact, but he could still feel Robb looking at him. He did have a song finished, but it wasn't one he ever wanted to share. 

Now nervous about doing so, Theon opened his notebook and began reading over the lyrics to an unfinished song, trying to develop it. While he worked, the Starks fell into conversation, and the minutes whiled away until the door was banging open and people began to flood in. Luwin was in the front, toting a stack of pizza boxes. They immediately jumped up from the table, making room for the boxes to be set down. As people began to pick through and eat, the boxes spread to cover the table and kitchenette counters. There were two cheese pies and a meat lovers, true to their requests, along with a veggie pie and one small barbeque chicken pizza. Clegane himself was eating the lattermost. 

There was easy chemistry between them all, familial almost, and Theon was jealous. Despite what he had thought in the car, he hadn't slid in as easily as he thought. While everybody chatted, he found himself entering conversations and working to be looked at with that same bright fondness that they all showed one another. He had that with Sansa already, and Robb and Jon too, but to the rest of the crew he was still a stranger.

It still managed to be one of the funnest nights he had ever had, gorging himself on delicious pizza and joking with his musical idols. Robb in particular thought Theon was hilarious, laughing uproariously at any shitty joke Theon made, though that may have been in part to the alcohol one of the crew members brought in. By the time it was all over, empty pizza boxes stacked on the countertop and exhausted people trickling off to bed, Theon had never been more awake and raring to go in his life. The Starks retired fast, climbing into their bunks and curling under their blankets. Within ten minutes, Jon was snoring quietly into his pillow. Sansa hurled a pillow at him barely five minutes later; Jon fell quiet, and Robb and Theon grinned at each other across the gap between their beds.

Try as he might, Theon could barely sleep, still unable to believe that this was really happening. At some point he must have drifted off, because one moment he was gazing across a dark bus at Robb sleeping in his bunk, and the next he was blinking up at the bus ceiling and there was light coming in through the windows up front. The smell of coffee permeated the air, and there was a soft clattering in the kitchenette. He sat up best he could, head brushing the roof, and peered out to see what was going on.

Robb was awake, dressed in a baggy long sleeve shirt and old pajama pants, sipping on a mug of coffee while a fresh pot brewed. He was leaned back against the table, his hair a messy array of bedhead curls that still looked so damnably soft. He wore headphones, the wire hanging loose down his chest and disappearing into his pocket, and he gazed at the coffeepot as it dripped almost broodingly. Theon watched for a moment. He wouldn't be falling back asleep now, so he slid carefully from his bunk and edged past the still-asleep Jon and Sansa towards the front. Towards the coffee. Towards Robb. 

"Hey," Robb greeted, looking up as he drew near. He tugged the buds from his ears, coiled them into a ball, and shoved them into his pocket. "Good morning. Coffee's almost done." 

"G'morning," Theon mumbled, yawning. Robb followed Theon's gaze to his mug and gave a sheepish grin. 

"I've been up for a bit. Couldn't sleep." He shrugged. "I drank a pot already... But in my defense, it's a small pot." 

"Why couldn't you sleep?" 

Robb shrugged again. He moved back to sit on the edge of the table, and Theon grabbed a chair. "Nerves. I always get them before a tour."

"Really?" Theon stared at him. Robb was always so bright and energetic on stage, and was so friendly all the time. He had never really imagined Robb being quiet and nervous, not in any situation.

"Yeah?" Robb cocked his head and looked back at him, puzzled. "What, you think I'm a big bad, fearless performer? I'm not." Robb stepped lightly past Theon to the filled coffee pot, freshly brewed, and poured himself a new mug. He rolled the ends of his sleeves over his hands to muffle the heat and took a deep sip, eyes fluttering closed. "I'm me. I'm Robb. I'm only 21, you know? We made the band in high school, and never expected to get as big as we did. Sansa's only 19, she switched to online schooling to finish her diploma. Jon and I were newly graduated when we started touring. We were the opener's opener, and now we're headlining our second nation-wide tour in a year. Only our fourth time headlining, too." He took another sip, blue eyes fixed on Theon's face. Theon fidgeted under their intensity. "But you know all this already."

"Yeah," he admitted. "Well, most of it. I didn't know about Sansa's schooling. ...Or that you drink your coffee black."

Robb laughed, and his teeth were white and his eyes crinkled so nicely at the corners. Theon averted his gaze. 

"But you look at me, you all do, like I'm a star. Like I'm something to be admired."

"You are," he breathed. "You, all of you, you're incredible. People look up to you. People want to be you. Isn't that amazing?"

"It makes no sense to me. Why? I'm just surviving. Barely," he added with a mirthless sort of chuckle, and Theon fidgeted again. He wanted to ask what he meant, but Robb's expression was suddenly shuttered and he knew better. Robb bit out a laugh, harsher this time, and shook his head. "Ignore me. I'm only on what, my fifth mug of coffee? Yeah. It's still too early." 

"It's..." Theon twisted to look at the little clock. "Six am. Oh."

"'Oh'," Robb mimicked good-naturedly. "Yeah. Why don't you go back to bed, Theon? It's gonna be a long day. The first is always too damned long."

"Alright," Theon agreed, backing off. He wasn't all that tired, not anymore, but it was clear that Robb wanted to be alone. He returned to his bunk and nestled under his blankets, turning his face out to watch Robb. He had slipped his headphones back in and was in a chair now, staring down into the depths of his mug while mouthing silently along with the lyrics of whatever he was listening to. 

Theon couldn't explain even to himself why he was spying like this. What Robb had said was still on his mind, circulating persistently. As he watched him, though, his eyes grew heavy under the influence of sleep, and he blinked rapidly to try and keep awake. Robb was standing now, coming closer towards the bunks, and then he was ducked over and rifling through his bag. He pulled out a little orange pill bottle, and Theon watched him dryswallow one with a grimace. 

He furrowed his brow, watching as Robb swallowed again as though to clear the taste from his mouth, and headed off again to the table. Robb was drinking his coffee, listening to his music, like nothing was up. Now feeling as though he had intruded in on something very private, Theon feigned turning in his sleep and stared at the wall of the bus, his eyelids slipping low. In the bunk below, Sansa breathed a snuffling snore. Nobody else was awake, Theon thought, only him and Robb. But he was barely clinging on to consciousness, and Robb was drinking mug after mug of coffee like there were no health repercussions to be had. He would be awake, long after Theon had lost the battle against his own exhaustion, and he felt a twinge of guilt for leaving, but shook it off fast. He hardly knew him, after all, and if Robb coped with whatever nerves he was feeling by being alone and drowning himself in coffee, Theon wouldn't get in his way. Finally, he let his eyes close again. 

At the table, Robb drained his last mug of coffee and made a face at the dregs. He ought to stop, he knew. Try and sleep again, even, like he had told Theon to, but he couldn't bring himself to return to his bunk. Not with five mugs of coffee now fueling him, anyways. He turned his music off, letting the relative silence of the bus fill his head instead. He grabbed Theon's notebook and pulled it towards him, the one Theon had had earlier, and flipped open to the first page. Penned lyrics covered the page, along with boredom doodles and brainstorming scribbles, but Robb disregarded those. He flipped to the second page, skimming the words, and then the third and the fourth. 

"Oh, Greyjoy, you little liar," he breathed. He had stopped on the fifth page, where a fully developed song had blossomed, and a smile crept across his face as he read it. Robb glanced up at Theon's bunk, and the dark shape lying within it. "You are good, Greyjoy," he murmured, arching an eyebrow. "I can work with this one."


	4. the less i seem to know

Robb's voice was musical perfection in its own right; even without the backing vocals of Jon and Sansa, or the instrumentation, Theon could listen to it all day long. Just the raw sound of his voice, screaming out lyrics and then dropping to croon melodiously into the microphone. Seven hells, he was practically making love to the mic. His lips were against it, sweet and chaste as he sang until the song picked up again and he hopped back, belting out the chorus while the crowd screamed it back. One foot tugged the mic stand's cord, tipping it into him. He caught the stand with one hand and grabbed the mic off it with the other, letting the stand drop as he twisted away. 

Sidestage was something special. Even five shows down, Theon wasn't used to it, nor was he used to the novelty of a free Young Wolves show. He wasn't even entirely sure he was supposed to be at sidestage, but Beth Cassel was, and a small handful of other crew members. So far, they had only had Theon do basic stage work: setup, make sure everything was where it needed to be, keep cold water on hand for the band... All sorts of easy things that Theon took to immediately. He also tried to help carry equipment, though Jory, Alyn, and Harwin all took the heavy things and left Theon to scrounge after microphone stands and lengths of cords. He was itching to learn how to do lighting, but the three of them worked with the show tech. Jory was especially good at the lights, and had a knack for execution and the perfect shades of color to suit a song. For the few songs that used pyrotechnics, Harwin was the go-to man. 

So Theon was left feeling more or less useless. Even for instrument malfunctions, such as broken guitar strings, Beth was the one to zip on and retrieve them, trading a new guitar or microphone. She was petite and speedy, and her nimble fingers were adept at restringing guitars in a timely manner. It left him wondering if they even needed him at all, or if they only invited him along for the fun of it. He didn't really think he would mind if it was the latter.

Still, little as he got to do, he got to watch, for free, and after the show he got to go off and hang out with them, sometimes backstage or at the venue bar, or sometimes out in town. He had noticed that that first night hadn't been a fluke; Robb was always energized after a show, and both he and Jon drank a lot. Whatever medication it was that Robb kept sneaking in the mornings, it must not react negatively with alcohol. Under the pulsating red lights, smattered intermittently with ghostly white, he was a bloody apparition. Wide with energy, the whites of his eyes flashed in the light, striking against the deep blue of his irises. Afterwards, when he was making the gradual descent into tranquility, his eyes were soft and half-lidded, though he was still bouncing on his feet and lapping the little backstage area, much like an under-exercised Border Collie. One night, Theon made the mistake of suggesting a walk, shitty little grin on his face, and Robb had struck him with the fiercest look Theon had ever seen and a vehement denial. Sansa had looked at him apologetically, but he never got an explanation. It didn't matter, really, but Theon couldn't say his feelings weren't hurt. It was just a joke.

Robb's eyes were shut at the moment, sitting across from him and tapping a beat on his thigh. He held a half-drunk bottle of something between his thighs, and periodically took swigs from it. Jon and Sansa were sharing a blunt, and it was jarringly reminiscent of their first time hanging out. Under cover of their own smoke, Theon was sneaking his e-cigarette, and waving away plumes of his favorite honeysuckle-scented vapor that Robb had hated. He didn't seem to notice just yet, just tapping his rhythm and mouthing what had to be lyrics. They seemed almost familiar, but Theon couldn't make out the words, could only appreciate the way Robb bobbed his head in tune with whatever he had in his mind, and the shape of his lips forming the words. Theon's gaze lingered for a guilty moment on those lips, before tearing his eyes away and turning to watch Jon and Sansa instead. As though sensing his eyes on them, Sansa offered the joint while Jon tilted his head, brows knit in polite concern. 

"Everything alright?" Jon inquired.

Theon took it gratefully. "Yeah, I'm great." He really was in the mood for a walk, now that he was thinking about it, and he took one swift puff before handing it back. "I'm gonna head out for a bit, yeah? Walk around town, maybe get something to eat. You guys want anything?"

Robb's eyes snapped open. "No, you're not. Nobody is leaving."

Theon arched a brow. "Why?" He took a challenging step towards the door, and Robb glowered at him. "I want pizza, and we passed a pizza place on our way here."

"You're not going out by yourself, it's not safe," Robb said, sitting up now. Jon and Sansa wore identical awkward expressions, avoiding Theon's gaze.

"I... What? I'm twenty-three...? I think I can manage a walk down the street by myself?" Theon was incredulous, looking between them all. Robb's jaw was set, and Theon knew without a doubt that if he actually attempted to leave, he would have a nasty fight on his hands.

"How about we all go?" Sansa suggested after one long, timid pause. "Four of us... And maybe Sandor will come?"

Robb sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, hesitant yet still angry. "Fine," he relented. "Do you wanna ask? He likes you best." Sansa agreed, and hurried off to fetch Clegane. Robb turned that blue gaze on Theon again; he could see more concern in his eyes than there was hostility, and Theon's own angry resolve wilted. "Sorry," Robb murmured. "It's just... You don't know this city, or what could happen. You shouldn't go out alone."

"Yeah, man, it's fine. I just really fucking want pizza." Theon laughed, and Robb joined him after a moment. Robb studied his face, blue eyes searching for something Theon didn't think was there, and he held his breath in the sudden proximity. Fearful of losing himself in those eyes, Theon let his gaze fall to the angle of his nose, the soft lines of his cheeks and contrasting angled cheekbones and jaw. It was those lips that ensnared him again, soft and supple, and Theon wanted to kiss him, wanted to bite that lip and pant Robb's own name into his mouth. 

Jarred by these thoughts, Theon wrenched himself away and turned entirely to face Jon, standing nearby and scrolling through his phone. Jon glanced up in surprise, but offered a friendly smile. Theon parted his lips to speak, eager for a distraction from the embarrassing images now in his brain, but was interrupted by Sansa returning. Another welcome distraction. 

"Sandor said he'll come," Sansa reported. "He's coming now." Theon grinned, grabbing up his jacket and wallet, stuffing his wallet into his pocket. Robb followed suit more reluctantly and Jon, already wearing his own jacket, merely glanced over at where Clegane was emerging from. He looked surly as always, but Theon knew by now the guy was fine so long as you didn't cross him, or hurt Sansa in any way. Both their security guards were fiercely protective of Sansa, almost weirdly so. Theon half-wished he could say the same applied to him, but after a week they both still eyed him with a hint of wary suspicion, and he was sure that wouldn't change until he did something drastic, like give his life to save Sansa's. 

Clegane opened the door for them and Jon led the way, Robb on his heels, with Theon, Sansa, and Clegane bringing up the rear. Rather than creepy or imposing, the hulking figure of the man behind them did prove comforting as they exited the venue into a shadowed alleyway. Robb glanced back over his shoulder at them several times before they even came out into the street; once they were under the cover of streetlamps, with the still-bright shopfronts lining the street, the tense line of his shoulders began to relax. His hands slipped free from his pockets and swung freely as he chatted with Jon. Theon was just too far to hear what they were saying, amidst the noise of the city, but he watched the laughter cross Robb's face in profile, and the curve of his lips as he grinned. He also noticed the way Robb tensed again as they passed a strolling stranger, and didn't relax again until the stranger had crossed at the crosswalk and slipped into a laundromat. Theon's brow knit in concern.

"What's up with him?" Theon asked, voice low. Sansa sighed, eyeing her brothers mournfully.

"It's kind of a long story," she whispered back, and Theon didn't press further. He slowed his pace, glancing around. There were all sorts of restaurants lining the street, their bright neon signs beckoning Theon to them. Dornish, Lysene, Meereenese, a Dothraki barbecue joint... There was even a little wine shop with a sign advertising the esteemed Casterly Rock brand. Theon eyed it all voraciously, making a mental note to come back here and try each one of these places at some point, but right now he really did want pizza. Theon then realized he was falling behind, and trotted to keep up. Clegane watched him expressionlessly, leaving Theon feeling rather judged, but he fell in step beside Sansa again and she grabbed his hand in hers. It was surprising how entirely platonic it felt and Theon smiled, watching as the neon pizzeria sign up ahead grew nearer and nearer.

"Is this the one?" Jon asked, stopping and glancing back at him. 

"It's the only one we'd passed," Robb told him, smirking. 

"Shut up, Robb, I'm just making sure," Jon retorted, though his lips had an undeniable curve to them. 

"Yeah," Theon said, grinning. "This is it." He opened the door for them all, trailing in after Clegane. Sansa was up at the counter already, standing on her toes to read the menu on the back wall, and Theon came up alongside her and squinted at it. "Fried pickles! Sounds good."

"Garlic knots!" Sansa countered, her eyes shining. "I think I might get those, they sound really good right now." 

"Mozzarella sticks?" Jon suggested, sidling up on Sansa's left. Robb joined at Theon's right, so close their shoulders rubbed together.

"How about some calamari?" Robb said all-too-casually. Theon shoved him good-naturedly.

"Rude-ass." The employee behind the counter smiled at them, waiting patiently with an amused sort of look as they gushed over their options. "You know what, I think I will. Can I have an order of fried calamari, with--" Theon glanced over at the display of slices available. "One pepperoni slice and one spicy chicken slice, please?"

"Sure thing." The girl rang it in, and looked expectantly towards them. 

"I'll have an order of garlic knots and one cheese slice, please!"

"Can I have one of the sausage and pepper slices please? And an order of mozzarella sticks."

"Just a pepperoni slice for me, please. Thank you.

"I'll have three barbecue chicken slices and a soda."

Theon meandered over to the table in front of the window, pulling a chair back and collapsing into it with a small sigh. Robb sat beside him, eyes intense on his face, while Sansa and Jon sat on the other side. Theon let his eyes slip shut, acting as though he couldn't feel Robb's gaze scorching his flesh.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah, just tired! And hungry. What about you, man? You must be exhausted."

"I'm fine." Theon opened his eyes and looked over at him, but Robb was facing the window now, his face half-lit by the streetlamp outside. The faint white light gave him a soft look vastly different from the stage lights, and he looked more human. More real. His face was so young, the angle of his jaw lessened by the relaxation in his body and the way the light struck him, and the dark circles under his eyes were illuminated.

"You don't look fine," Theon countered. Robb rolled his head to look at him again and the light fell off his face, behind him now. The dark circles seemed larger now, and his eyes were deep and mournful. 

"I am. Promise." The smile he gave was so vague, so empty, it was all he could do just to gaze back at him. The others were chattering away but it was quiet between the two of them and both their faux smiles slowly dropped, and without it his face was too open, too vulnerable. Theon hated it, hated seeing him like that; it was uncomfortable and too quiet, and finally he had to look away. The employee was coming towards them with their pizza slices, and Theon took his gratefully.

"The rest of it will be right out!" she informed them cheerily. Theon watched her go back beyond the counter, and noticed that Clegane was still standing near the register. She spoke to him cheerily, and Theon watched as Clegane paid for everything, then turned and trudged towards them bearing five cans of soda. 

"Thanks, Sandor!" Sansa said brightly. They all echoed her, Theon with some gratified confusion and Robb in a weary mumble. The girl was bustling towards them then bearing their appetizers, and they passed the plates around between themselves.

They were talking, laughing, all boisterous joy and Clegane's rumbling tone undercutting, and the conversation carried on all night. Theon didn't think they ever lacked something to talk about, to laugh about, not until it was well into the early hours of the morning and there were trooping back onto the bus, and Luwin was scolding them all and sending them off to bed. Theon crawled onto his mattress and collapsed, his smile slowly fading as whatever parting joke Sansa had made faded from the forefront of his mind. All the joy, the thoughtless glee from the last several hours had hazed his mind so blissfully, but now as the bus settled into quiet he could think again.

It was the closest thing he had had to a perfect night in a while; even Clegane was surprisingly funny, when you got past the gruff exterior, but nothing could make him forget it now. As he lay in his bunk, staring up at the ceiling, all he could think of was that look on Robb's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all I'm backish. I was caught off guard with my workload this semester, between college and my job, so I am very sorry that this took so long. I'm not going to make any promises about when ch.5 will be out besides the fact that it will be out. This story will never be abandoned- I have it planned out up until ch20, so don't worry about that. I'm into the last month of classes, and this is nanowrimo, so I will make an effort to get at least ch.5 up by the end of the month.  
> It makes me so happy to see that people do enjoy this story and it makes me want to work faster, so thank you so much to everyone who has left kudos or a review!


	5. take it all on the chin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the kids get vulnerable

A week had passed, and Theon had made no mention of having a song finished. Frankly, Robb was growing impatient. He knew Theon had one done, or at least a solid foundation of it finished, and couldn't understand why Theon wasn't interested in sharing it. He couldn't ask him about it, though, because that would entail telling him that he had snooped in his notebook after Theon had told him no. So he waited, albeit impatiently. At nights, when Theon would sit hunched in his bunk, poring over the notebook pages, Robb would watch him from the table. 

He hadn't initially told Sansa and Jon that he snooped, but both cottoned on to what he was doing and his odd fixation on Theon and his notebook, so he confessed. Sansa was quietly disapproving, while Jon was weary of Robb dancing around the subject, and kept telling him to just talk to Theon about it. Robb refused. He did understand, being a songwriter himself, that Theon had his process. He had his own liberties when it came to the song, and perhaps Theon didn't think it was ready yet. What Robb didn't like was being lied to, and the fact that Theon had blatantly done so that time, and a few times since. He could brush it off if just one time Theon would look him in the eyes and he could be sure that Theon was being totally honest with him, no drawbacks, no inhibitions. Just total honesty. But Theon wouldn't do that, and Robb couldn't say anything about it without drawing to light a lot of things he would rather stayed hidden.

Robb stood in line at the pharmacy, awaiting that sweet little bottle of paroxetine with his name on it. Theon and Sansa were off in the toy aisle, playing around with stuffed animals, while Jon browsed the beer selection. Brienne lingered nearby in an optimal position to keep an eye on all of them, trying to keep a straight face while Sansa waved toy monkeys at her above the shelves. Robb grinned to himself, pulling his hands free from his pockets as the man before him finished, and he stepped up to the counter. The girl behind the counter looked up at him and smiled brightly.

"Picking up a prescription?" she chirped, tilting her head just so her hair fell perfectly over one shoulder and the florescent light spun off the honey-gold strands.

"Yes. It's Stark. Robb."

"I know that," she giggled, her cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. "Gods, who doesn't know that?" He didn't answer, but she wasn't waiting for one anyhow. She tore her eyes away from his face and looked at her screen, clucking her tongue. "Let's see what we have here..." Robb watched silently as her eyes darted across the screen and confusion crossed her face. "One refill of paroxetine. We should have that right over here." She turned quietly to the shelves behind her, rifling through them until she found the paper bag with his name marked on it. "Here you are." She slid it across the counter to him and he picked it up, feeling the familiar weight of the bottle inside. It was comforting, in a certain sense, but her dark eyes were on him again and he felt a cold, prickling sensation creep up his spine. He could almost see it now; the concern, the pity in her eyes, her painted lips framing the words _"Are you okay?"_ , and him being rendered dumbly mute. Resorting to the old excuses of _"It's not for me"_ or _"I don't really need it, the doctor insists"_. 

None of those words passed their lips, and Robb handed her his insurance card, and then his credit card in absolute silence. "Thank you," he murmured. 

"I'll see you at your show tonight," she said, smiling again, but there was a mournful question in those eyes. He leveled his gaze, bringing a smile to his lips. 

"I'll make sure it's a good one for you," he said, and the words had no sooner been spoken than a stuffed dog sailed across the store and beaned him in the head. "Sansa!" he whirled around, but it was Theon who peeked around the edge of the aisle, eyes brimming with mirth. Sansa was shrieking with laughter, hand on Theon's shoulder, pushing him out of the aisle. Theon trotted up to him, laughter still bubbling over at the look on Robb and the pharmacist's face. He bent down in front of Robb and scooped up the toy. Theon bounced up again, barely a foot away from Robb, and used the toy's soft leg to poke Robb's nose. 

"Smile, Robb, jeez. Look, he's a husky! And he wants to be your friend!" Theon poked him again with the toy's paw, grinning. Robb had to laugh, taking the dog from Theon's hands and smacking him with it good-naturedly. 

"Who's this?" the pharmacist asked, leaning over the counter. She was looking at Theon now, face bright and curious. 

"I'm Theon! I'm the band babysitter," Theon proclaimed, slinging his arm over Robb's shoulder. 

"No, you're not," Sansa said, laughing. "That's Brienne's job. He's our friend," she told the pharmacist, whose eyes were now sparkling with euphoria as she looked at Sansa, and Jon as he strolled over to join them. She straightened up, smoothing her jacket and pushing her hair back over her shoulder. Jon was carrying a thirty-pack of Night's Brew in each hand; Robb eyed them as he set them on the counter.

"Sure that'll be enough for everybody?" 

"Everybody? This is for me," Jon said, quirking an eyebrow. "Tonight."

"I don't doubt it," Robb said, putting a teasing edge to the words to mask how truthful they were. Jon rolled his eyes, paying for the beer, and Theon whapped the stuffed husky on the counter. 

"I'll take this!" he chirped, loosening his arm around Robb just enough for him to slip free, retreating several feet away to where Sansa stood. 

"Should I buy gummy bears?" she asked, glancing over at him. Robb shrugged, and Sansa gnawed her lip for a moment. "Nah," she decided. "We still have fruit snacks on the bus." Hearing this, Theon snagged a pouch of gummy bears from the front-counter display and added them to his purchase. Robb noticed and smiled to himself, but said nothing. Brienne rejoined them as Theon hurried over with his bag, and they traipsed outside with a parting wave and smile to the pharmacist, who leaned over the counter and watched them go. The street outside was bustling, people in sweaters and hats dashing by with shopping bags on their arms. A street stand selling pashmina scarves lured Sansa over with eye-catching shades of deep fuchsia-red and royal blue. 

"Made with the finest Myrish wools!" the seller called, brandishing his arms towards the fancier designs. Sansa's eye, however, was drawn to a more simplistic gray and white pattern, and she took the end of the scarf in her hands and ran it through her fingers. "Oh! You like our regional designs? This scarf is made for the North-- very soft, warm wool!"

"Yes," Sansa said softly, pulling it free from its hook. "I'll take this one, and--" She lifted down another scarf, this of an elegant green and gold pattern. "This one, as well." 

"Good choices!" the seller purred, taking the scarves from her and folding them neatly, packing them up for her. Sansa paid, and the group of them went on their way. 

"For Margaery?" Robb asked, trotting to match pace with her. She smiled. 

"Yeah, this one," she said, indicating the wrapped green one. "The gray is for me."

"You know," Robb said, tilting his head. Sansa looked over at him, curious. "You could give her the gray. A bit of the North, you know? And keep the green for yourself."

Sansa nibbled her lip. "Yeah, maybe. That's a good idea."

"I do have those, every once in a while," Robb said. She knocked her shoulder against his playfully and leaned against him as they walked. Her face was wistful, lips pursed in a weary pout. "You'll see her soon," he said, knowing all too well just who she was thinking of. "We're headed south anyways, and I'm sure she'll meet us in King's Landing?"

"Yeah! Of course she'll be there," Sansa said. "You know her brother's with Renly, and the Baratheons organize the whole festival. She'd be there anyways..."

"No," Robb said. "She's going for you."

Sansa's cheeks flushed a soft pink. "Yeah," she hummed, looping her arm through his. Some days, the soft touch was a striking reminder of other times and his skin tingled and crawled with electric revulsion. He always thought of _her_ , and she weighed heavy in his chest, his heart, with every flutter of thought. He tensed just a fraction this time, and relaxed himself soon enough that Sansa shot him a look glowing with love, and squeezed his arm comfortingly.

On his other side, he received a rough bump to the shoulder. "Hey!" Theon greeted. That stuffed dog was in his hands again, front legs flopped limply over his forearm. It really was cute, and Robb couldn't help himself but reach other and pat its head. Theon grinned, starting to speak, when Robb tugged it from his grasp and whacked him over the head with it. "Hey!" Theon cried again, raising his arms to shield himself. Sansa snickered, and Robb pressed the husky to Theon's chest.

"Payback," he said, smirking. Theon stuck his tongue out, shifting the toy to sit under his other arm, away from Robb.

"I can't believe this," he muttered, sulking good-naturedly. "I cannot believe this. Attacked, in my own home--"

"Theon, we're in the Reach. We're nowhere near your home," Sansa said, eyes brimming with mirth. The three of them managed straight faces for all of two seconds before collapsing into snorts and giggles. A shadow loomed behind them, and strong hands landed on Robb's shoulders. Robb glanced up at Brienne, blinking sweet and innocent. 

"We are in public. Behave yourselves," she reminded, though a smile teased at her own lips. She was right, though; Robb could see people pointing at them from across the street, waving in vain hopes of being noticed, and Robb waved back with a courteous smile. Jon was several paces ahead of them and was stood still, looking about in confusion, until he finally turned back and found them lagging behind. He tilted his head and waited for them to catch up, still clutching his packs of beer in both hands. 

"You guys coming?" he called. Rather than answer, Robb jogged to catch up with him, Theon and Sansa at his heels. Brienne joined a moment later, rolling her eyes, herding them along with broad sweeps of her arms. They scuttled along like scolded children, fighting back laughter, twisting their heads this way and that to look at the shopfronts as they were shepherded past. 

"Brienne!" Sansa whined, pointing at a wine shop. "Please?" 

"You're cutting it a little close," Brienne warned. "There's two hours until your meet-and-greet, do you really want to dawdle?"

"No," Sansa mumbled, defeated. She gave the wine shop one last wistful glance, fully aware of the stocked cabinets awaiting them on the bus, and tailed after the group as they maneuvered up the sidewalk. The van was waiting for them up the block, Rodrik standing beside it. Beth waved to them from the window of the bookshop beside them, and came dashing out a moment later with a stuffed bag clutched to her chest. 

"I got the latest book in the Florian and Jonquil series, a copy for each of us!" she told Sansa, whose face lit up. "And a book about the Iron Islands! For your sake, Thee," Beth said, throwing him a glowing look. "There's recipes and cultural things in here! We're all northern, so we want you to be at home with us."

Robb watched the shock cross Theon's face, followed by warmth and a quivering smile. "I already do, Beth, but thank you." Robb couldn't help but smile too, pushing all thoughts of the notebook aside for now, and was reaching to give him a hug when Beth beat him to it, hopping to loop her arms around his neck. Jon clapped Theon on the back and climbed up into the van, toting his beers, and Beth hopped up after him. Sansa kissed Theon's cheek, taking his hand and squeezing it briefly before heading into the van. Brienne went into the front passenger seat. 

Now left alone with each other, Robb and Theon locked eyes. The stuffed husky was still tucked under his one arm, and Robb was mindful of it when he pulled Theon into a hug. Theon's head fit into the curve of his neck and shoulder, and his body was warm against him. "You are one of us, you know," he said, only now realizing how true the words rang. "You're family." If Theon's eyes were a little watery when they pulled apart, Robb chose not to comment.

"I never..." Theon trailed off, looking at him, looking _through_  him, and bit his lip. He stepped past Robb and went into the van without uttering another word, and Robb watched in equal silence. Not another word, yet he could guess what Theon was going to say. He had read the song.

* * *

Theon's eyes lingered on Robb the entire drive back to the venue, but Robb kept his gaze well-trained on the view out the window. Whatever Theon was battling right now, let him sort it out before he felt pressured to share. Then Robb felt a twinge of guilt for his impatience over the song, but that was different. That was business, and this was personal. He went off on his own when they got there, puttering around his things on the bus and settling his new husky beside his pillow on the bunk. Robb watched from his peripheral as he gathered his gear, and Theon trouped out after them as they left the van, but only to join Jory and the crew as they went to get the stage and tech set up. Robb, Jon, and Sansa sat in a circle backstage, acoustics in their laps and strummed out a melody. They sang a soft and sorrowful harmony for a vocal warm-up, Sansa's fingers tracing like breath over the keys of her little harmonium. 

As the final quivering notes died in the air, the stage door opened. Theon peeked his face out, face pale. "What song was that?" he asked. "I've never heard that one before, and I've heard everything."

"It's unreleased. Never been performed before, and never will be," Jon replied. " _When the White Winds Blow_. It's... a special song." Robb nodded in mute agreement. He had always disputed the 'never to perform' aspect of the song, but it wasn't worth getting into. Not now, before a show, when they would only get worked up and angry. 

"It's beautiful," Theon said, pushing the door open a little more. "Would you ever thi--"

"Greyjoy! Get your ass back over here, slacker!" Jory's jeering shout could be heard even where the band sat, and the three of them laughed at Theon's stricken face. He slunk back to work, letting the door fall closed again, and they looked at each other silently, Jon's jaw set in a fierce angle. Sansa glanced at Robb, and Robb kept his mouth wisely shut. The tense atmosphere Robb had wanted to avoid was there now at Theon's accidental behest, for they all knew exactly what Theon was going to say, and all it did was bring up the old argument: Record it. Release it. Perform it. 

Never. 

But they put it aside, like they always did, and went to greet their throng of breathless fans for the meet-and-greet acoustic show. They sat cross-legged on the mini-stage they had erected, just a foot off the ground, and their little throng of fans sang along, swaying where they sat. Their weapons were their voices, their guitars, the harmonium; they were the charmers, the gently-swaying fans the cobras, and song was their collective drug. Robb could feel his heart swelling in his chest, fit to burst, loving each and every one of them with the entirety of his being. This, seeing the dreams in the faces of the fans, made every fight, every tear, every pill all worth it.

When it ended and they released the meet-and-greet crowd into the venue to wait for the show, Robb set off to the bus. He couldn't even say he was surprised to see Theon there, curled into a ball on his bunk with a blanket over his head. He stopped and looked at him for a long moment, eyebrow raised. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it wordlessly and shook his head. He bent over his bunk and rifled through the pockets of his discarded jacket. He pulled that little paper bag free and tipped the pill bottle into his hand, sitting down on the bunk. 

**Take one tablet by mouth daily.**

**Paroxetine 50mg**

The little white pills were deceptive. He poured one out into the palm of his hand and swallowed it down dry. The bottle found its place on the little inset shelf above his pillows, and he plunged his hand into his pillowcase and snatched his little baggy out. He plucked a pill out, snapped it in half, and dropped one half back into the bag and the other in his mouth, swallowing that down as well. Two hours to peak. Doors opened soon, an hour until the opening act, a forty minute set and fifteen minute break, and then they were on. He would be on clouds for the duration of their performance, and crashing in time to go to bed. The baggy went back into the pillowcase, and Robb stood up. He glanced over at Theon again, still with his blanket over his head, and reached over to pull it free. Theon blinked up at him, lifting his face off his pillow. 

"What are you doing?"

"It's comfy." Theon wriggled to sit up, and threw the blanket over Robb's head. The plush, heavy material settled over much of his upper body, and Robb blinked in the sudden darkness. The blanket muffled sound, so Theon's amused tone was soft as Robb wrestled the blanket off. He balled it up and threw it back at Theon, smirking; Theon batted it away and it fell to the corner of his bunk in a heap. "What are you gonna do?"

Robb shrugged. "Same as always. We'll watch New Gift perform, run through the setlist one last time, warm up, blah blah blah. You?"

"Same as always," Theon echoed, a crooked grin on his face. He laid his head back down and looked at Robb sideways. "Tag around after you guys. See if there's last minute work to do."

"There never is, not with our team," Robb said proudly. Absentmindedly, he reached out a hand and brushed Theon's hair back from his face, carding his fingers through the soft tresses. Theon closed his eyes and hummed happily, and Robb smiled. "You were gonna say something, earlier today. What was it?" Theon's smile dropped, and his eyes opened again. Robb didn't stop his gentle movements, however, and trained his eyes steadily on Theon's face. 

"You guys..." Theon murmured. He was quiet for a moment; Robb waited patiently, just stroking his hair. "Don't get me wrong, Robb, I love my sister." He looked beseechingly up at him, as though pleading him to know the truth of the words. "But she's the only one there. My dad, he's never thought twice about me. If I didn't come home from this tour, he would only be mad that he lost free labor at the shop. My brothers, they're both dead, but they were always his pride. I was close to my mother, but she--" He broke off, shaking his head slowly. His voice was raw, half smothered against the mattress, his eyes suspiciously watery. "You, the band, the crew, everybody... Fuck, man, I know it's only been a week, but I'm more comfortable here than I ever was back home. Please, after this tour ends, bring me back. I can't go back to just being a fan again."

Robb took Theon's face with both hands now, and bent to kiss his forehead in the same soothing manner his mother would. "Don't worry, Thee," he murmured, employing Beth's nickname for him. "You're stuck with us forever, now." His gut roiled with this new information, but Theon reached up and grabbed one of Robb's hands. 

"Come up here," he said, pulling his legs against himself to make room. Robb obliged, climbing up into Theon's bunk and sitting cross-legged, back hunched so he didn't hit his head on the ceiling. "Talk to me. What's home like? That's something I don't know much about," he added, that crooked grin back in place. 

"Well," Robb began, settling in more comfortably. Theon wriggled around to see him better. "Besides the three of us, we have another younger sister, Arya, and two younger brothers, Bran and Rickon. My mom and my dad met when their parents introduced my mom to my uncle, but she fell in love with my dad instead."

"Lucky for the world," Theon remarked, and Robb had to laugh.

"Yeah, lucky for you," he teased, poking his cheek. Theon swatted him away playfully, snatching up the stuffed husky and tossing it at Robb's face. He caught it and tossed it back, and Theon tucked it under his arm, against his chest. 

"Tell me more," Theon mumbled, staring at him. 

"Alright. My dad's family is an old family from the north, and my mom's family is from the Riverlands. They're both old families, so there's old money and we were pretty well-off, but when we were starting the band, we struck a deal with our parents that they would give our basic funds on a loan, and we would pay back every cent of it. We got a small bus to begin with, and did a lot of the work ourselves. Jory, Harwin, and Alyn were friends with our father, and Luwin is an old family friend. They joined us when we started getting bigger, and we were able to pay our parents back with interest before leasing the old van, and then a couple tours later we got this bus," Robb said, running a loving hand over the wall. "Finished up the lease and bought a new van to go with our new bus, got some new equipment, and here we are. A very brief summary of the last four years."

"Wow," Theon said. He squirmed about some more and snuck his head into Robb's lap, gazing up at him. Robb returned his hands to Theon's hair, toying with the wavy strands and twisting his fingers through it.

"Your turn. Tell me something," Robb said, coaxing a tangle from Theon's hair. Theon hummed softly, eyes shut and relaxed. 

"The song," Theon said. Robb's heart leaped in his chest, hardly daring to believe it. "You know, the one you guys sang earlier? The one you don't want to perform? I was going to ask if you would ever record and release it as a single or something, but I thought about it some more, and I understand. Some songs are just personal. They're not made for the public ear, they're just made for you. And... I lied. I do have a song finished, but... It's one of those songs. I'll show you it eventually, but for now... I want to keep it to myself." His eyes opened again, trained on Robb's face. "Is that okay?"

Robb's mouth was dry and cottony. He had to clear his throat before he spoke, and there was guilt in his heart. "Yeah. Yeah, of course man, take your time. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

The smile he got in turn made the guilt swell dense. "Thanks, Robb. Your turn again!"

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, huffing out a laugh. "What do you want to know?"

Theon wanted to know a lot. Apparently, there were a lot of things that the fan world wasn't privy to, and Theon's thirst to know was boundless. They played a sort of 'twenty questions' game, trading off after each answer for a time until the bus door hissed open and Beth came up the steps, hands on her hips. She looked around, came a little ways down the hallway, and spotted them. 

"There you are! You gotta hurry up, you missed New Gift's set and you need to be on stage in ten minutes!"

"Shit!" Robb scrambled from the bunk in a panic, grabbing his stage jacket from its hook beside the bunks and pulling it on. He stopped to fix up his hair in the mirror, but Beth grabbed him by the hand after barely a minute and yanked him along, rolling her eyes. Theon was hot on their heels, stopping only when they caught up to where Jon and Sansa were waiting. They both turned to look as they drew near.

"Thanks for joining us," Sansa teased, flicking her gaze between the two of them. "Just in time-- They're screaming for us!" 

Robb listened, and she was right. The crowd was a unified voice, ringing loud and clear to where they stood, calling them, demanding them. "Wanna keep them waiting?" he asked, and Jon and Sansa both laughed. They turned back around and Robb stepped up beside them, watching the countdown play on their little screen, broadcasting to the stage curtain. Five, four, three...

"Ready?" Sansa murmured. 

Two.

"Ready," Jon and Robb echoed.

One.

The curtain dropped in a ripple of fabric, and the crowd's voice peaked, sounding their hearts to an empty stage. Jon went first, and then Sansa; they disappeared before him, and a moment later tumultuous applause reached his ears. Robb made to follow, but Theon lunged forward and seized his hand. He glanced back at him, questioning. 

"You were gonna forget this?" He let go of his hand and grinned, handing him his guitar. "Good luck!"

"Thank you," Robb said, a grateful smile crossing his face. He took the guitar and clapped Theon on the shoulder, before turning and surging up the steps. The stage pulsed under his feet with the beat of Jon's bass and Sansa's drums. The air resounded with the sound of shrieks and cheers; a thousand faces gazed up at them, awestruck, glowing under the opalescent lights. Robb shook the loose curls from his face and grinned at them all, picking up a rhythm on his guitar that had the noise cascading. People hopped against the barricade, faces wild with euphoria. The drum was his heart, beat resounding. The bassline was every thought, humming through his blood. Robb leaned into the mic and roared out the opening lyrics, feeling the weight of the world dripping off his shoulders with every syllable rolling off his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! I hope you guys liked Robb's POV, I have fun with him.  
> If anybody is interested, I finished my semester and finals strong and made the Dean's List, so yay! I'm now officially halfway through college, and doing my capstone research project this upcoming semester. I am a writing major, and am allowed to do a creative project, so I will be writing my novel this semester. This means that updates for this fic will be slow, but please be patient with me because I will never abandon this!


	6. these hearts are wireless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to GRRM for making the ravens go quork so I can use that instead of tweets lmao

"Hey, Theon! Come check this out." Theon looked up from the window to see Sansa waving him over, phone in hand. 

"What's up?" he inquired, rising from his seat and padding over to join her at the table.

A week and a half down now, Theon had grown accustomed to watching the world fly. When he had followed the Young Wolves on their last tour, he hadn't been allowed to borrow one of his father's cars, and he had hitchhiked much of the way, taking a couple of buses and trains along the way. It was harder to relax in those situations, though, and he spent more time keeping a watch on his surroundings than just watching out the window. The bus was a home away from home, surrounded by people he dared call friends, and all they did was lollygag about the kitchen dinette and play cards while cruising down scenic highway routes. Theon had bought a two-pound bag of colorful candy bananas at their stop in Highgarden, and thus they gambled with bananas rather than coin. This news on Sansa's phone was the most interesting thing that had happened since that day spent in his bunk with Robb, but he couldn't say that he had been bored. No, far from it. Still, this...

Theon peered at the screen, reading quork after quork describing him. "Oh— it's our pharmacist friend," he said, pointing at one. The post was a reply to another quork asking if anybody knew who he was, the "stranger" hanging around the band recently. There was even a candid photo of him attached, laughing at sidestage with Beth and Luwin. Sansa put her head next to his, reading the pretty pharmacist's response, and nudged his shoulder with hers. 

"Looks like you have a fan," she teased. Theon grinned.

"Can you blame her? Drowned God, just look at me!" He gestured to himself, in all his t-shirt glory. Sansa rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, the ladies are just falling all over you." But she wasn't entirely wrong; Theon was an eligible target whenever they went out at night to a bar or a shop—never alone, always with Clegane or Brienne. Theon didn't quite understand that aspect yet, but he was sure they had their reasoning. They were a successful rock band, after all, and were bound to have a cache of nutcase fans. He had had his share of one-night stands since this tour began, if they could be called that. More so flings, grinding and blowjobs and quickies in bathroom stalls and bar siderooms. Just last night, he'd—

Sansa nudged him again, pointing at another post. "Somebody recognized you," she said. The post read 'That's Theon Greyjoy lmaooooo', and Theon tipped his head, staring at it. 

"How does he know that?" he asked, and tapped on the profile. "Fuck, man, that's one of Yara's ex-boyfriends. Dammit, that guy's a tool!" Fortunately, there were few likes and replies under the post, and no requorks. Hopefully it stayed that way; Theon wasn't sure he was comfortable with everybody knowing exactly who he was, and felt a stab of sympathy for the band members.

"Should I report the quork?" Sansa's finger hovered over the button, but Theon shook his head with a scowl. 

"Nah. It's not like anything will come of it anyways, if you did." Now ready to brush the whole situation off, Theon straightened up to rummage through the overhead cabinet in search of snacks. "What, no chips?" His scowl dripped off his face, replaced with a sullen pout, and he settled for a bag of pretzel rods. Nibbling the end of one, he collapsed onto the pleather couch and threw his feet up into Jon's lap. Jon shoved them off, but Theon put them right back again and again in a wordless battle until Jon gave up with a sigh of exasperation, pushing his reading glasses back up his nose and settling his book on Theon's shins, turning the page after a minute. Theon watched, hoping for at least flicker of attention his way, but Jon was either too focused on his book or too resolute on ignoring him. Disappointed, he chomped the end of the pretzel and crunched up the rest bite by bite, fishing another out of the bag. 

He cast his gaze around, searching for somebody else to talk to. Robb was elsewhere, and Sansa was still absorbed in her phone, brow furrowed, far more concerned with this whole situation than Theon himself was. He was displeased with his full name being out there, but at the same time he knew it wasn't the end of the world, and people would talk for a bit until their curiosity was resolved and it would blow over. Maybe this would even prove profitable for him; once he had a song for the Young Wolves and his name was credited on that, he would get more opportunities working with other bands. Maybe it would draw attention to Yara's music. She would like that.

A small hand plunged into the pretzel bag and Theon looked up to see Beth Cassel grinning at him. She waved the pretzel teasingly before chomping into it, and Theon sat up so she could sit down beside him. He did not remove his feet from Jon's lap, much to his chagrin, and Beth pulled a pillow into her lap and coaxed Theon to lay down again, head in her lap. He munched another pretzel, stretching his free arm up to doodle a smiley face on the foggy window above him. 

"Pretzel me," Beth said, hand out, and Theon fished a pretzel out of the bag and slapped it into her palm. Jon glanced over; Beth tossed it to him, and Theon handed her a replacement. "Thank you," she hummed, eating it happily. "Have you been to King's Landing?" 

"Once," Theon replied. "Last tour. I hit every date."

"Oh! Well, this is gonna be different. This is the 'Tourney of Rock' festival," she said, waving her hand out as though to paint the words in the air before her. "The Baratheon family puts it on every year, and this is our first time! Well, my first time. They've all been before, but it's their first time performing!"

"We're so excited," Sansa gushed, looking up from her phone at last. She clicked it off and slid it into her pocket, spinning in the chair to face them.

"No," Jon drawled. "You're excited to see a certain pretty girl."

Sansa stuck her tongue out. "What, and you're not? Ygritte's gonna be there too, and you know it! Hypocrite."

"Isn't Lightning Lord headlining one of the days?" Theon said excitedly, stuffing another pretzel into his mouth. "I'd kill to see them live!"

"Ew," Beth muttered, putting a hand over Theon's mouth. "I'd kill for you to chew with your mouth closed." Jon snickered, while Sansa nodded in straight-faced agreement. Theon swallowed and batted Beth's hand away, sulking.

"Yeah, Lightning Lord headlines the first day. Rattleshirt and the Wildlings headlines the second day, and ____ headlines the third. We play the second, of course, and then you have bands like the Bastard Boys, the Faceless Men, the Silent Sisters... New Gift, too, of course..." Sansa counted off on her fingers, and shrugged. "There's a lot. We're staying for all three days, too, so don't worry, you'll get to see everyone."

"Awesome," Theon breathed. He had never been able to go to Tourney of Rock, despite it being an annual festival, because the tickets were just out of his budget. He had had to save for a long time to follow the Young Wolves on tour, and this crew job was both a saving grace and the chance of a lifetime. 

"If we keep on schedule," Sansa said, checking the time on her phone, "we'll reach King's Landing tomorrow morning." She cast a mournful glance out the window, at the highway zooming by. "This is the first tour in a while we haven't hit Stonedance, but we didn't have time, with the festival... It's too bad, I like that city."

"Is Rodrik driving through the night again?" Theon asked, stunned. After the monumental fight Beth had put up the last time her father had tried that, he didn't think he would do it again. Beth scowled.

"He said," and she put on a gruff tone, "'Beth, if I don't then we won't make it in time. How would you feel then? I promise I'll be fine, this isn't the first time I've done it and it won't be the last.'" She rolled her eyes. "Like I'm at fault for worrying about him."

"I don't need you worrying about me, little girl," Rodrik called back. "This is your first tour, it's not mine." 

"First full-length!" Beth shot back, glowering at the back of her dad's head. She looked down at Theon, heaving a weary sigh. "He would never let me come on one at all until I turned fifteen, and even then it was only for half of the summer tour."

"I never would have guessed you were new to this, too," Theon told her truthfully. Beth smiled.

"Thanks! I practiced and practiced for months until summer. You could say I'm a pro," she said, practically preening. Sansa laughed.

"Can't say much for her modesty, though," she jeered.

"Screw modesty," Beth said brusquely. "If you're good at something and you know it, flaunt it!"

"I like kids these days," Theon snorted. "When I was a teenager, we weren't like that. We--"

"Like hell you weren't," Jon interrupted, shaking his head. "People change, but not that drastically. If you were anything like this in high school, you were obnoxious."

Theon stuck his tongue out; Beth stuffed a pretzel in his mouth. "All I'm saying is," she went on, "hiding inside yourself doesn't help with anything. It stunts emotional and social growth, and society as a whole suffers if everybody pretends to be less than what they are."

"You taking a psychology class or something?" Theon asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"And human development!" she chirped. "Online schooling is way better than high school. I think I might major in something like psychology in college, with a music minor of course. Maybe a business minor, too."

"You're gonna be a busy girl," Sansa warned. "I did the online schooling, it gets tough if you pack too much on."

Beth shrugged, fishing another handful of pretzels out of the bag. She tossed one to Jon and one to Sansa, feeding Theon another before eating the final one herself. Footsteps thumped overhead, and the ladder at the end of the hall rattled noisily a moment later. Robb poked his head around the corner, a stupid little grin on his face. Theon waved, and Robb plopped down on the floor in front of the couch. He laid his head against Beth's leg, letting his eyes fall shut. 

"I'm drunk," he drawled, squishing his cheek against her. She pressed a pretzel against his lips and he nibbled it thoughtfully. 

"Drinking with Jory and Alyn again?" she teased. He nodded slowly. "Stupid. Last time you got sick, remember?"

"'m tired," Robb whined, ignoring her. He reached a hand up plaintively for another pretzel, and Theon fed it to him. It was less obvious with their positions and proximity, so Theon couldn't help but indulge; he studied Robb's face, taking in the droop of his eyes and the flush of his cheeks, the way his lips pushed into a pout, and how soft and young he looked leaning against Beth.

"Aw, poor baby can't handle his alcohol," Jon teased. 

"We're not all alcoholics, Jon," Robb retorted, though he winced after he spoke the words. Theon sympathized. It was always something that embarrassed him, but he didn't handle alcohol very well either. He liked drinking to the point of fuzziness, just enough to be questionable. Any more than that and he started to feel dizzy and nauseous, and the headaches sprouted. Theon nudged another pretzel against his lips, watching the way he nipped gently at it, and the way his throat moved as he swallowed. Theon swallowed as well, mouth suddenly dry. He was finding, as the days passed, that he really wanted to do things with Robb. To Robb. He wanted to kiss him, feel those lips against his own, taste the wintermint chapstick Robb was so fond of. Even guiltier, he wanted to kiss the bulge he found himself eyeing in the skinny jeans Robb wore on stage. Theon nibbled another pretzel, imagining something else in his mouth, and had to look away. It was just gross infatuation, lust for somebody he idolized. 

He felt sick and gross about it, looking at his friend like that. Every time he caught himself looking at him, thinking of it, he had to look away and mentally chastise himself. But he couldn't deny how badly he wanted it, and that was perhaps the worst fact of it all. So he had to turn away, time and time again.

This effort was made especially hard when Robb decided to drink and do stupid things, such as climb up onto the already cramped couch. Which is what he was currently doing. Robb grabbed Theon by the hand and forced him to sit up so he could fit, and let out a content little sigh as he settled into the soft pleather. His head tipped sideways against Theon's shoulder, and the feeling in Theon's chest definitely wasn't lust. He didn't want to think about what it could be; he had the idea he didn't quite want to confront that just yet.

"You alright, Thee?" Beth asked. Sansa glanced over, brow knit in worry.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Theon glanced down at Robb and had to suppress a smile. He could see Jon shaking his head in his peripheral, and Sansa was looking back at her phone with that same worried expression. Beth crossed her legs, turning her head to look out the window. Theon watched out the opposite window, reluctant to disturb Robb, whose breaths had smoothed into the easy rhythm of someone nearing sleep. Signs passed for cities known and unknown to Theon, billboards for restaurants he would never try and attractions he would never see. 

"Hey," he murmured. Robb hummed softly to indicate he was listening. Beth, Jon, and Sansa all looked over. "When the tour is over, what are we gonna do?"

"Uh. Head home," Jon said. "That's what we usually do." He was giving him an odd look, and Theon didn't particularly care for it. "Why?"

"I dunno." He shrugged with his free shoulder. "I don't think I'll be ready to go home." He'd be happy just to stay on the road, visit all these little drive-by towns and live someplace new each day. 

"You dun have'ta," Robb mumbled, voice thick with alcohol and drowsiness. "Sstay with us." Sansa was giving him a warm look that spoke more than words ever could, and Theon had to look away. Beth butted her shoulder against his, grinning.

"We're not gonna abandon you," Jon said. "There's a place for you as long as you want it."

Thank you. He wanted to say the words so badly, they were itching at the back of his throat for an escape, but he couldn't make them come. He nodded instead, a small smile on his lips, and leaned his head against Robb's. His curls were soft and cool against his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question for everybody: The next three chapters are an arc that kicks off the rest of the story. I can do what I'm currently doing and post them as I finish them, but it will be especially slow going because I have to focus on the novel I'm writing for class, which is due April 29th. Or, I can set this on temporary hiatus until all three are finished, and I can either post them as a set or do a weekly update. Realistically, the hiatus will last until early/mid May.  
> Let me know what you guys would prefer, and thank you again for reading!


End file.
